Scratching the itch

I get itchy for very few things.  But they're significant things.

I get itchy to go home - to see the Kaikouras covered in snow, to eat kumara fries and drink hot chocolate in Wellington, to watch as the Marlborough Sounds come into view crossing Cook Strait on the Interisland ferry, to enjoy fish and chips on the Picton foreshore, to visit the latest winery in Marlorough, to drive to Havelock for mussels and a glass of sauvignon blanc at Mussel Buoys, to walk on the Port Hills above Christchurch, to enjoy a drive out to Akaroa to visit the galleries.  And that's all without mentioning seeing the families - meeting the new members, mourning those no longer with us, to see how much the kids have grown.

It's been four years and one week since I've smelled and tasted and hugged all this.  At this point, with my employment situation up in the air, I don't know when I'll next be home.  That makes me sad.

I get itchy to go camping.  Here's where being unemployed has been such a blessing in disguise.  In the past year I've been proper camping at least three times - complete with a fire, awesome meals, a nice bottle or two of wine, hikes, doggy companionship.  I've gotten a few days of living the most simple life I can imagine - not computers, no cell phones, no alarm clocks, no clocks whatsoever.  Only a day governed by the rising and the setting of the sun.  These mini-vacations bring me a peace I couldn't buy and lasts at least two weeks or good feelings at a stretch,

And I get itchy to start a home construction project.  I've lived with our bathroom for nearly five years now.  It's a perfectly OK bathroom - old fashioned black and white tile that's occasionally cracked, peeling ceiling paint revealing the pink underneath and the most hideous garish vanity you've ever seen.  Really, it's fine.  But I've had a dream for a while now. I need a new bathroom (especially since this is our only bathroom).  I'm going to blow out the wall and build a barrier free shower in the closet next door.  And build storage in between the studs to make the best use of a narrow room.  And maybe even make a concrete vanity top.

But there are a few obstacles.  I thought they were insurmountable, and then it looked like our finances meant that we couldn't pay someone to remove them.  But lately I've been thinking - Hey, I can build an entrance into the attic.  Hey, I can remove a radiator.  Hey, what's so difficult about moving an AC duct?

I think that wielding my tools building my friend's Carol and Dave's kitchen has boosted my confidence.  And I've had so much fun doing it.  There's the perfect combination of physical labor (reminding me of how much I used to enjoy working physical labor jobs while on summer break from uni) and the creative (figuring out how to maximize the odd space that's their kitchen and make it pretty) and the mental logistical challenges (it's like a giant jigsaw puzzle!). The ideas have started gelling.

Now, all I have to do is figure a way of jury rigging a shower in the basement ...

Watch this space!